My “Elvis” Impersonation

It is late in 2003. I am playing guitar and singing on the worship team at my church in Eugene, Oregon. I am also leading worship once a month. One Sunday I am putting my gear away after services, when one of the older ladies in our congregation approaches me. She proceeds to tell me that she finds my “on stage gyrations” offensive, and that she intends to “take the matter further” (her exact words). My parents raised a respectful son, and so I immediately apologized to her for any offense I caused…but the story doesn’t end there.

Before I go any further, I should mention that the worship leader, and the rest of the team DID have a nickname for me – they called me “the happy, dancing guitar player”. I was no Elvis on the platform, but I enjoy what I do, and do tend to move a bit. On with the story…

She goes to the worship leader, my friend and mentor, and tells him “all about it”…but the story doesn’t end there. Next, she goes to the senior pastor, and gives it to him. As a result of her conversation with him, I am invited the following wednesday to a meeting with the senior pastor, the worship leader, the lady, and myself.

Wednesday rolls around, and I get the dubious honor of attending the meeting before worship rehearsal. The lady is allowed to speak first, and she airs a veritable laundry list of offenses – some of which have nothing to do with me – but she presses on. When she is finished, the senior pastor thanks her, and then gently informs her that he finds nothing offensive about my behavior either on or off the platform, and that he has no intention of asking me to change ANYTHING about the way I approach worship.  The worship leader speaks next, and tells the nice elderly lady the same thing, in slightly different words…and adds scripture references to boot. She is not a real happy camper when she leaves, and tells the senior pastor before she does leave, that “this isn’t over”. I will  never forget the look on her face when the senior pastor smiled at her and said “Oh, yes, Betty, it is.”…but the story doesn’t end there.

The following Sunday rolls around, and we are wrapping up our rehearsal in the sanctuary when we hear shouts and screams coming from the fellowship hall. It seems that my favorite older lady had decided to drum up support for her cause by complaining to one of the adult Sunday School classes. She chose the class that MY PARENTS attended. Bad move. Look up “She-Bear” in the dictionary…you’ll find a picture of my lovely mother. The senior pastor, the worship leader, and some elders manage to quell the near riot. I am stunned, the worship team is stunned, and the senior pastor looks like he could spit nails.

I had decided what my response to this woman was going to be, and so during the worship set, I played and sang…and stood as still as a statue. I didn’t move a muscle! I didn’t smile, didn’t wave to my mother (which I always did), but also didn’t miss a note or a vocal part.

After the service, the SAME woman who started it all, tells me that it didn’t look like I was enjoying myself on the platform!

I’ll tell you what…you just can’t please some people!

P.S. – The very next Sunday, the senior pastor spoke from the pulpit about his intention to move the church forward to “embrace positive change, in music, ministry, and missions.” My friend Betty, and her husband, were gently, but firmly told to embrace the pastor’s vision, or not, but if not, to feel free to locate a new church home.